It's Complicated - One-Shot
by riverknowshisname
Summary: Katniss consoling Peeta after his mother hurt him.


Today had been very uneventful. It seems like no matter what I do I still keep coming back…my mind keeps going back, to the Hunger Games to the kisses in the cave, the clinging to each other for survival, and utter reliance on one another. I can't say I don't miss it, how I wish I could. My mind and heart have become so blurred as a result of the Games. What was it about the Games that seemed to draw me so effortlessly to Peeta Mellark the baker's—

I'm stopped mid thought as I looked outside my window towards Peeta's house. He looks angry, and his face has a big red mark on it…no doubt that is from his mother. I'd have thought she'd stop beating him once he moved out…not to mention won the Hunger Games! Peeta darts into his house and even though he's three doors down, I hear the slamming of it as it closes resonates to where I am.

I don't hesitate at all. I'm on my way out the door, Prim and my mother ask where I'm off to, but I don't even stop to think about it, let alone answer them. I'm sick and tired of Peeta's mom thinking she can do whatever she wants to her sons—to Peeta. I'm sick of seeing him black and blue. Now that I know him, now that I've noticed him, I can hardly turn a blind eye.

As I reach the stairs of his house—identical to mine—I burst through his door. I'm not even going to give him the option to turn me away…not that he would, Peeta's far too good for that.

"Go home, Katniss." His voice sounds from the other room. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," I rush down the hall and whip around the corner into the kitchen. Now that I can see him, the mark is even redder than usual, as if she'd hit him with something besides her hand. "Oh my god, Peeta!"

"It's fine, Katniss." He shakes his head.

"No," I tell him. "No, it's not." I don't waste any time getting to the refrigerator. "Go sit down, while I grab some ice."

"Katniss—"

"I wasn't asking Peeta," I tell him. "Go sit down." He doesn't argue this time. I yank the freezer open and wrest a package of frozen meat—meat I got for him the other day—out and march back over to him. Sitting very slowly beside him—the closeness is too much, things…feelings are coming back. I want to scoot away, but I can't escape the fact that I'm drawn to him, that I've longed for this closeness for far too long.

"Thank you," he says as I press the packaged meat to his cheek. "I really do appreciate it."

I don't look at him, because I know looking at him will only make this more difficult…but I can't. I look up into those piercingly beautiful blue eyes, and find myself back in the Games…to that kiss. I shake my head.

"What?" he asks. "I do appreciate it."

"Oh," I say. "That's not it."

"Then what was it?"

I swipe a hair from his forehead and he catches my hand. "Can't we get along Katniss? You rush here as soon as my mother does something, but besides that we don't talk."

"It's complicated," I try to excuse.

"Complicated for whom?" he asks. "I know how I feel Katniss. What I did and said in the Games was genuine. I meant every word I ever said to you."

"I know…" I say, still unable to break the lingering eye contact.

"Did anything you said—or did—mean anything, or was it all an act?" his eyes show no sign of hurt, guarding. He's guarding himself. He wants to know, but at the same time he doesn't.

"No Peeta," I say slowly. "It wasn't all an act."

"So you do care about me?"

"It's complicated…" my excuses are pathetic.

"Katniss…" he says leaning in towards me, my hand still on the meat on his cheek. He's centi—no, millimeters away from my face now, I can feel his breath on me, feel the things I've been suppressing. The moments when I was sure that I did care for Peeta Mellark. But it was all supposed to be an act, it wasn't supposed to be real. Before I can form another thought Peeta's lips meet my own. At first I resist, but his kisses were always so warm and gentle, and I can't resist. I return the kiss with enthusiasm. I don't know how much time passes before I realize what's happened. Peeta and I are intertwined, legs links, arms surrounding torsos. We were close in the arena, but this is another kind of closeness.

But before I allow myself to feel those things again, I break away from him. He smiles at me, and I smile back. _Stupid, stupid girl._ Once again seeing the mark on his face I spin for the door.

"I'm gonna kill her!"

"Who?" hollers Peeta after me.

"Your mother!" I yell as I thrust the door open and step outside. If I have my way, his mother will never hit him—or anyone—ever again!


End file.
